Wednesday, December 31, 2008

I've learned that the holidays are a time for both giving and receiving. Sure, it feels great to get something, but to give something is something special too.

Or so I've heard.

Mommy and Daddy have given me so much. Whenever I want milk, they get it. Whenever I need to be rocked asleep, they give me their arms. Whenever I want to be burped, they jump into action. Heck, whenever I want to be entertained, they're sticking their tongues out to me. Whenever I need a bath, they run the water. Whenever I poop, they get dirty with me to get me clean.

I've gotten so much from them, and I really truly desperately want to show my appreciation. But it's very hard to do that without a major credit card to your name.

So, Mommy and Daddy, I don't have anything to wrap up, but I've decided to give you what I've got. So, for tonight and tonight alone, I'm giving you six and half hours of uninterrupted sleep.

I hate to break it to you, Mommy, but I've got two legs. And, through multiple experiments, I've learned that their purpose is to hold me up for 5-7 seconds max, after which they collapse underneath me like a jello statue during an earthquake. That's what they do. They're legs. Duh.

So your little trick is just life the way it's intended.

Although, come to think of it, your legs don't work like that. And Daddy's neither. Or anyone else's I see. Actually, legs seem to actually move in a scissor-like motion and they take you places.

Monday, December 29, 2008

Oh, what, you couldn't handle me? Well baa-baa-baa. Cry me a formula, will ya? You got yourselves into this baby mess. Now you got to stick with it, day in and day out. But noooooo, that's too much for you, is it?

I am the center of your world. But I guess not anymore. Fine.

FINE! The knife cuts both ways, homey.

You know what? You can't handle the truth. That's what it's all about. And the truth is that I'm bigger than all of this. Oh yeah, I'm convinced this is for the best. Yeah, you heard me. You're weak and pathetic and...What? Mommy's on her way to pick me up?

Sunday, December 28, 2008

The internet is a dangerous place for parents. It can give them all sorts of strange ideas. And I'm currently the guinea pig for a new experiment.

Mommy was reading that, by my third month, I should be sleeping through the night. However, I'm just giving them three or four hours at most. So Doctor Google told Mommy about a little trick.

When I wake up for the first time, Daddy is gonna pick me up, put my pacifier into my mouth and slowly rock me back to sleep. The thinking and hope is that each night, I'll sleep a little longer until I make it all the way through the morning.

They did this last night. They think I'm not onto them, but I know.

Even though it did work until I woke up 80 minutes later.

This is gonna cost them extra breast milk before I sleep. You can be sure of that.

Yellow Paci, I'll remember you well. You were there for me when I was born. You've always been there for me. I never betrayed you and you never betrayed me. Wherever I went, there you were. When I had a nightmare, like being attacked by a blob of poop or drinking pee from Mommy's breast, there you were to calm me down. I'll never forget you. You are my best friend, and I wish you well on your travels, wherever life might take you.

But here's the cool thing: although I celebrated Christmas in Marin County, I was able to share it with my entire family using this thing called Skype, where no matter where my family is located, I can see them on my computer here where I can interact with them.

For example, I Skyped with Katie, Buddha, Auntie Jenn and Uncle Aaron. I don't know how they did it, but from San Diego, they somehow appeared on my computer and we had a nice conversation. I think they crawled into it, but that didn't seem right, and I don't see my Uncle Aaron as the crawling type.

Then I Skyped with Grandma and Grandpa in New York. I have no idea how they fit into my computer but they were really happy to see me. I guess they weren't that uncomfortable in there.

And then I Skyped with Uncle Mike, Aunt Sue, Nicky, Ava Rose and the gang in New York. Even Uncle Joe, Aunt Celeste, Alana and Marisa were there. It was like they were having a party in my computer. Trust me, I wanted to crawl inside of it and join them.

However, when the computer shut down, they all went away. And I had a great time with Mommy, Daddy, Gram, Grampa, Uncle Shannon, Auntie Nessa and Petra.

So, even though I was many miles away, I got to spend my first Christmas with everyone I love.

Wednesday, December 24, 2008

Mommy got a recipe for Aunt Celeste's lobster bisque. Although I've only been around for a little over two months, even I have heard about the extra deliciousness of that dish. Seriously, you have to hear Daddy talk wistfully about it. It's a meal he eats every Christmas Eve.

But this year is his first away from New York. And learning the recipe is where Mommy's generosity and selflessness comes in. Which means that Mommy had a daunting task in front of her.

I was with her when she got all the ingredients. I was with her when she double checked them with Aunt Celeste. I was with her when she worried about whether or not it would come close to the original.

And I watched her make it in Gram's kitchen.

Daddy had three bowls. So did Grampa. Gram doesn't like seafood, but she loved this bisque. And Mommy had a bowlful.

Tuesday, December 23, 2008

Tonight, Mommy and Daddy sat down to watch a movie that Daddy said is one of the all-time greats. It's called "Casablanca" or something.

Anyways, the three of us sat on the couch together, with my parents on each side of me. And I watched the lights and colors move on the TV set for awhile. And although the story of lost loves finding each other in World War II Morocco is an appealing topic, I just couldn't keep my eyes open.

Then Daddy held me in my arms and Mommy snugged up beside him and the three of us were one. Every so often, they would sneak kisses on top of my head. I'd kick my foot with appreciation. They felt so warm. It was warm.

Although I didn't make it through the movie, the entire time I felt like I was in a fairy tale.

Monday, December 22, 2008

I didn't mean to cry all day. Truly, I didn't. Normally, when I cry, I'm just communicating, and you're able to read that, but today was different.

Although the pain was in my gums, as those teeth crawl their way through, I felt it throughout my whole body. That's why my legs tightened and went straight. That's why I swung my arms. And that's why my hands were always in my mouth.

I appreciate all the medicine you gave me but it just wasn't enough. Trust me, I tried to make them work, but there wasn't a part of my body that wasn't agonizing.

I hope this isn't a recurring thing. But if it is, I'm apologizing now for my crying later.

Sunday, December 21, 2008

With all the traveling Daddy's been doing for work, and with Mommy and me going to San Diego and then to Marin and having different parties and obligations, well, our family unit just hasn't had any time to, you know, just be a family unit.

That's what made today so special.

We began the day with Daddy taking pictures of me while Mommy played with my legs. Then, Daddy held me and we had a staring contest (I won). Then I pooped, and it was fun to clean because I trust them. Then Mommy fed me. And then I sat in my swing seat and watched Mommy and Daddy clean the house. Then Daddy and I watched some football. And then Mommy read to me. And then I slept while they ate.

We just haven't had many days like this, where we really accomplished nothing but accomplished everything.

Saturday, December 20, 2008

Mommy and Daddy took me to one of their adult parties tonight. This consisted of a bunch of couples drinking wine while eating cheese and salads and pastas and desserts. They were laughing and playing games and making conversation.

Oh yeah, there were other children there. But we were, for the most part, cast to the side in our carseats and playpens.

Well, little do our parents know that when infants are in direct contact with other infants, we can communicate. You might think we're crying or cawing, but it's actually conversation.

We party too.

For example, it wasn't gas we were having. It was a farting contest, and I took home the championship.

And then, a burping contest (which had a contested ending).

We all laughed when my Daddy stood up and his buttcrack was showing. Then the other kids told me that happens to their Daddies too. So at least I know my Daddy isn't alone in his fashion incompetence.

I learned that although I'm proud to be able to get my poop up behind my ear, that it's also possible to get poop inside your ear. Someone here actually did that. I've got something to aim for.

We all love Mylocin. In fact, after a while, it started to sound like a Mylocin Anonymous meeting.

All in all, it was enlightening.

But here's the most most enlightening thing: we all agreed that our parents think they know us, but they really don't. They have an inkling, but there's much more they don't know than what they do.

But they're trying their best.

And there's nothing more we could ask for.

Although it would be nice if our Daddies picked up their pants every once in awhile.

Friday, December 19, 2008

Sixty is a big number to comprehend, especially for someone who can't even count to one.

Heck, I can't even count to zero.

Luckily, I was able to get my hands on a calculator when nobody was looking.

Grampa has been alive for 21,841 more days than I have. That's 718 more months. 524,184 hours. 31,451,040 more minutes.

He's got a lot more experience in this life than I do. He's done a lot, and there's so much that interests him. And because he's seen and done so much, the entire planet is open to him. And yet, whenever I'm around, I've got his undivided attention. Because, in his world, to this man who has been on this planet for 1,887,062,400 more seconds than I've ever lived, I'm the most important person in the world to him. Me. Who's just 74 days old.

Thursday, December 18, 2008

My Dad claims that he's gained about 20 pounds since I was born. Considering that I've just begun to be able to focus in on him a couple of weeks ago, I can't verify that fact is true or not.

But whether it's true or not, I can verify firsthand that my dad's got some athleticism in him.

It's late night. Mommy and Daddy are on each side of me in bed. They're making faces at me and I'm trying to do what they do. It's a fun game. I'm getting better at it.

At some point, I fall asleep. Then Mommy falls asleep. And then, Daddy. He shuts the light, and the three of us are together. (By the way, this was a special treat. I'm not allowed in bed until 7 or so).

Then Mommy and Daddy hear a crinkling of paper. They turn on the light but see nothing. Daddy thinks it's just the fan blowing on some receipts. Then they shut the lights off again.

That's when I saw my Daddy use his hops.

When he felt the mouse crawling on his back, I couldn't believe how quickly and how high that fat man could jump. Seriously. I was so impressed that I forgot to be scared. And the goosebumps on his back looked like a mountain range.

We spent the night in the living room, with me on Mommy's chest as we slept on the glider while Daddy took residence on the couch.

Tuesday, December 16, 2008

When it rains, Mommy and Daddy put a clear plastic cover over my stroller. I don’t mind that. My vision isn’t that great anyway. Still, I’m not a fan of the rain.

Anyway, it isn’t raining here, but it is in Santa Cruz. Bad rain. So Gram and Grampa decided to end their trip early and drive on back. Which meant that I got a chance to spend an entire day with Gram while Mommy went out and did some chores.

And by chores, I meant yoga class.

Oh, the fun we had. She sang to me and burped me and she smiled at me and I smiled back.

But here’s something I wanted to talk about: Auntie Pua was holding me when Mommy was getting ready for their yoga class. Now, my Auntie Pua will do anything for me. She loved me so much. But I did find a boundary. When I projectile barfed all over her, she held me away from her like I was a skunk. I know she loves me and doesn’t think of me that way, but I got her good. Real good. Then I barfed all over Mommy – on her shirt, on her boobies, everywhere. I was real good with my aim.

Unfortunately, they had to leave right then and there to head to yoga class, so you know who cleaned me?

Monday, December 15, 2008

When I cry, Mommy and Daddy have to figure out what I want. Instantly. And, to be honest, they’ve become rather good at it. I’m either hungry, tired, dirty with poop or full of gas. Help me now. And they do.

But, now that I’m seeing more of the outside world, I’m understanding that being instantly tended to is not how the world works. My first lesson in this is that our plane was cancelled in San Diego. I don’t really know what that means other than we were stuck there. Now, I really wanted to go home and hang out in my bassinet and be held in the glider. But it wasn’t going to happen sooner rather than later.

I thought about crying about it, but I looked around and saw that none of those things that I wanted was around. So what could you do?

Sunday, December 14, 2008

For dinner, Mommy and Daddy took me to the Uncle Aaron's bar/restaurant, The Fleetwood. He was there, and was so proud of me that he took me around and introduced me to everyone in the bar. That means I met the chef, the sous chef, the bartenders, the wait staff, the regulars, the football fans, the hotties wearing skin-tight jeans, their underwhelming boyfriends in their idiot attire, the ticket scalpers, the firemen, the bouncers and the cougars waiting for their young prey to walk in.

I was too young for them (but barely).

And even when I stopped being paraded around, random people would come up to me and tell me what a nice boy I was. How good looking I am. And they would do baby talk to me. Sometimes, if they seemed nice enough, Mommy and Daddy would let them hold me.

I think I can get used to this bar scene.

But, at least once every half hour, Uncle Aaron would pick me up and show me off again. It made me proud of him that he was so proud of me. I couldn’t have felt any more love.

And, at the end of the night, the two chefs dedicated their karaoke song to me. Of course, it was the worst version of “Bohemian Rhapsody” ever, but to me, it was the best.

Saturday, December 13, 2008

Seems like everyone has their birthday in December. The reason we flew down was to help Buddha celebrate her fifth birthday. All her friends where there, and Katie too, and they had so much fun.

I, however, just sat there, taking it all in.

You see, I was too small to participate. I can’t eat pizza. I can’t put frosting on my cookies. I can’t sing “Happy Birthday to You”. I can’t open gifts. And I can’t compete in a dance-off.

But that’s okay. I was taking mental notes.

Eating Pizza – When I get a chance, I think I’ll eat pizza New York style, just like my Daddy. That means folding it in half and sticking as much of it in and letting the grease singe the roof of your mouth.

Frosting on my Cookies – Everyone else tried to make Christmas trees or snowmen with their frosting. But when I get a chance, I’m just gonna slather the cookie with as much frosting as possible. It looks delicious.

Singing Happy Birthday – I’m gonna sing it louder and more off-key than anyone else. I learned that from my Mommy.

Opening gifts – I’m gonna do this slowly, just to build up the suspense. Call me a tease. I don’t care. And it’ll make the gift opening ceremony last a little bit longer.

And the Dance-Off – I saw a bunch of kids jumping up and down and getting their groove on. That’s gonna be hard for me to compete with. That’s why I’ll have to use props, like a table or a lampshade. If you can’t beat them with rhythm, beat them with comedy.

Friday, December 12, 2008

Mommy, Auntie Jenn and Auntie Pua took me, Katie and Buddha to the mall to see this person they call Santa Claus. Let me break this dude down: Fat jolly male. White hair. White beard. Chubby cheeks. Wore a red and white outfit. Comes around once a year. And his breath smells of bourbon.

Anyways, I gathered that this was the dude who was gonna give me gifts at Christmas, but he also told me that I had to be good in order to be on that list. Hey, as long as you don’t ask my diapers, you’ll find that I’m a good kid, Santa.

He asked me what I wished for. I thought about that. Deeply. Intensely. Mommy read my expression as that I was just chillin’ out, but I was actually in heavy thought. I mean, here’s my one chance to get anything I want, and I’m put on the spot as everyone takes my picture. Now that’s pressure. You try to come up with something good in that situation.

But I did.

And this Santa guy, well, he’s full of magic because, although I can’t speak, he still listened to my wish – and he actually brought it early. Because later that night, it arrived: he flew my Daddy here from San Francisco.

Thursday, December 11, 2008

To begin with, for the first time, I’ll be leaving San Francisco proper. The furthest I’d ever been was Petaluma, but now, it was time to go somewhere that a short car ride wouldn’t take us. So Mommy and Auntie Pua packed my bags and hustled me to the aiport, where we boarded a plane to San Diego.

It was my first time going through a metal detector. I came out clean.

It was my first time on a plane. I aced that.

It was my first takeoff and landing. I slept through that.

It was my first time visiting my cousins Katie and Buddha in their own house.

It was my first time going to the Fleetwood, which is my family’s bar/restaurant located right next to Petco Park.

And it was my first time that I was in a vehicle that didn’t have a base for my car seat. Mommy printed out the directions, and she tightened me up in the back seat using the seatbelts and what looked to be some sort of a pulley system. She was really anal about it.

Anyway, it was a good thing she was, because a couple of minutes later, I got into my first car accident. Some woman rear-ended us. Took us for a jolt. Did little damage to our rental, but still, the car took it.

Then again, that’s only what I heard what happened. I was sound asleep when it happened. I was so strapped in that I never knew what hit us. Mommy was upset for me, of course, but she failed to realize what an amazing job of protecting me she did before we even began to drive.

Wednesday, December 10, 2008

There’s this thing they call cellphones. It’s a device that Mommy and Daddy put to their ears and talk into. I’m not really sure how it works or why they have to do that. But they do it. A lot.

I think it’s some sort of magic.

Today, Mommy put the phone right in front of me, and I heard a voice. A familiar voice. A voice I’d come to know and love. And then I heard the song “Inky Dinky Spider” and…wait, Gram? Is that you? Where are you?

And then I heard Grampa’s deep voice.

But where were they? How come they weren’t looking at me?

It seemed to be coming from this phone that Mommy held. Maybe the phone ate Grampa and Gram, and they were trapped inside? Mommy, shake that phone and get them out.

No. That’s silly.

But I stared at it, wondering, trying to figure it out how it sounded like Gram and Grampa but…it’s not Gram and Grampa.

You know, there are some things in the world you just shouldn’t question. This magical phone is one of them. All I know is that it brings me closer to the ones I love. And that means I love it back.

Tuesday, December 09, 2008

I decided to use Mommy as a prop for a theory that I’ve been working on for a couple of days. So, at the end of the day, I’ve been clamoring to eat in clusters. Meaning, I’ll eat smaller ounces but with more servings. So, instead of my usual “Three Hours for Two Boobs” regimen that’s been working out, I’ll take 2 ounces of formula here, then an hour later, I want boob. Then ninety minutes later, gimme 3 ounces of formula. And then, before I sleep, more boob.

Smaller feedings, more servings.

Mommy was worried about it, thinking that I was becoming an overeater, but like I said, this was a theory I was working on, and it was time to turn it into practice.

And look what happened: Six straight hours of uninterrupted sleeping.

You see, by clusterfeeding, I’m filling myself up, thereby eliminating the need to be fed every three hours at night. So, even though Mommy and Daddy are semi-sleeping, waiting for me to cry for hunger, there I am, completely asleep, dreaming about mobiles.

Monday, December 08, 2008

Grandma and Grandpa left to go back to New York today. We spent our last couple of hours taking a bunch of photos and with them holding me and kissing me. Grandma was upset. I can tell that she cried right before she came over. This morning, when I was crying because I was hungry, well, that was only half of it. I’m with you.

Now, with them heading back to New York and with Gram and Grampa away down south, I’m left with just Mommy and Daddy. I gotta tell you, it’s nice to spend some time with the family unit. We bonded. We sat on the couch and communicated with each other. I cried. They tended to me and made me feel better. It was exactly what I needed: some down time.

I also pooped my brains out. A large, smelly, somewhat solid poop that filled up one diaper, and then its replacement when I decided I wasn’t done. Yep, it took three diapers to get me clean. There were wet naps everywhere. I even got some poop on my sock, and then on my foot.

If my poops were an Olympic event, this one would have been a medal contender.

Sunday, December 07, 2008

A day after my two-month birthday party, I went to my friend Christian’s one-year birthday party. It was great. Good food, nice people, my immediate family was there and I got a good look at what’s probably in store for my first birthday party.

We’re talking a Radio Flyer.

Probably some games that squeak and light up.

Something sporty, like a basketball and a hoop I can dunk on.

Some cool clothes.

Right now, there’s just not much I can play with. But today, I see my future, and it’s full of things to bang and ride and cause a ruckus with.

Saturday, December 06, 2008

That’s the song everyone sang to me today, except they used my name. I just stared at them and wondered what the fuss is about. Hey, I’m just two months old. What’s the biggie?

But I guess it is a biggie, because we had cake a couple of nights ago at Gram and Grampa, and now we celebrated again with just Mommy, Daddy, Grandma and Grandpa.

I’ve heard through the umbilical cord that you’re supposed to get gifts for your birthday. But I’ve got more gifts that I can handle. So, for this birthday, I decided to take a different tact.

Around 8 PM, everything started to go wrong for Mommy and Daddy. The area underneath the sink was overflowing with water. Daddy absentmindedly used some good pots to clean it out. The trash compactor stopped working. We had a mouse friend who came to visit. Mommy put bleach in the good pot to clean it but learned that there was a leak, so she got bleach on the kitchen countertop. And Daddy and Grandpa wanted to watch the big fight but couldn’t find it on the internet.

So I decided to give Mommy and Daddy the biggest gift possible: I didn’t cry. I didn’t want to be held. I didn’t need to be burped. And I didn’t need to be fed.

I just sat there and watched them do their thing and did my best to keep out of the way.

Friday, December 05, 2008

With Grandma and Grandpa here to take care of me, Mommy and Daddy decided to go on a “date night”, which involves getting dressed up, going out to dinner, catching a movie and then having a couple of drinks. Seems kinda lame to me, but what do I know? I’m just two months old (almost).

What Mommy and Daddy don’t realize, however, that it’s also “date night” for me, Grandma and Grandpa. That means we can spend some quality time together and really get to know each other.

We began by communicating. Grandpa would sing to me. Grandma would babytalk to me at a high pitch. And I would cry “hulla, hulla, hulla” and they would correctly interpret it that I’m hungry.

Then we played. Grandpa and Grandma would make funny faces at me, and they would stare at all the funny faces I made right back at them, which they would interpret as smiling, but which I secretly knew was gas.

And then I decided to play a joke on them. I made believe that I went to sleep. And then Grandma put me back in my bassinet. As they watched TV, I would make these noises – or caws, like an owl – and Grandma would get up and check on me. Now, Mommy and Daddy call my bluff on these caws, but with Grandma being a newbie at watching me, well, she was as gullible as all get out.

Thursday, December 04, 2008

Mommy and Daddy took me to the doctor's office for yet another checkup. This time, however, the doctor had two medical students in with her to observe and practice on me. Usually, I take the attitude that I'm not a piece of meat, and I don't like doing things twice.

But this time, one of the med students was a chick, and she was kinda cute.

Va-va-voom!

So when Daddy took off my onesie so the doctor could check me out, I made sure I was always flexing, so the med student could check me out too. And when the doctor checked my throat by placing a flat wooden stick on my tongue, I shook it off like it was nothin'. And I showed her what I had to offer with the way I smoothly moved around on the tissue paper on the examination table.

But then came the final test of my burgeoning manhood...two vaccinations.

Two needles.

One in each leg.

Zero tears.

You heard that right.

Zero. Tears.

She had to be impressed. Had to. I know I made my point.

If I had a man musk, I'd know she'd be digging it. And I know that if I had a driver's license, a car, a bachelor pad, a credit card and a solid "in" with the best restaurants in the city, let's just say...whoop whoop.

Wednesday, December 03, 2008

At night, I've been taking three hour naps. Then, I'll wake up, eat, burp, have my diaper changed, then go back to sleep for another three hours. That seems to have been working for me. But it's not great for Mommy and Daddy. It's wearing them down. I can see it from all the angel dust in their eyes when they pick me up at 4 AM.

They never complain about it. They just do it with a smile because they love me so much.

So, after much self-deliberation, I decided to give them a nice little gift, from me to them.

I took a five hour nap tonight.

You heard me. Five hours. That's 300 minutes. And I followed that up with a four hour nap.

Which means that, instead of Mommy and Daddy waking up twice during the night, they only had to wake up once.

Tuesday, December 02, 2008

After five weeks of not seeing them, Grandpa and Grandma flew all the way from New York to spend another six days with me. Which means that, for the next 144 hours, I'll be continuously held, kissed and loved. I've been looking forward to that, actually.

What I wasn't expecting was the look of surprise on their faces when they saw me again.

"Oh my god, Wyatt! You got so big!"

Look, I've been through my growing pains, remember? I kept Mommy and Daddy up with my tribal yells. I kicked and punched and squirmed and cried. I didn't do that for my health. I did that for my height.

And I'm only, like, 22 inches tall. Any sort of growth is gonna be extreme.

So, of course I was too cute to leave alone, and when they picked me up and hugged me and smothered me with love, I dove right into heaven.

And all I kept thinking was, "Oh my god, Grandma and Grandpa! You look so small because now I'm bigger and everything is decreasing in size relative to me!"

Monday, December 01, 2008

When Daddy holds me while sitting in the glider, he'll prop me up at a 45 degree angle or such, and my head will rest on top of his armpit, my back will be supported by his forearm and my bum held by his hand. It's really quite comfortable, and the angle gives me a direct view into his eyes for our daily staring contest.

This is also the posture in which he'll feed me.

As he does this, at some point, I'll poop. It'll be a very messy and wet poop. It's the byproduct of all my strength and willpower. I am very proud of these poops.

And I know that my Daddy knows, because through my diaper, onesie and blanket, he'll still be able to feel the reverberations in his hand.

I'll poop four or five times like this in a sitting. And he'll know each time.

The reason I'm bringing this up now is because I want my Daddy to know that when he asks me to pull his finger, and I do, and he farts, I don't want him to think he's getting one over on me. He's not.